Riddles, Riddles
by XsilverXdoeX
Summary: DH SPOILERS! Twenty drabbles telling the story of Voldemort's life, beginning in the orphanage and ending...well, the end.  R
1. I’ll Show ‘It’ To You

Chapter One: I'll Show 'It' To You

The little girl was crying and the boy beside her was trembling, his round, pink face ashen. Tom looked down at the two younger children and the severe cliff of black stone they had just descended.

"T-T-Tom…?" the boy named Dennis Bishop stuttered, looking eagerly at the older boy's face for comfort, "Wh-wh-where is it?"

"Not too far." Tom replied in a somewhat indifferent tone. He gestured for his companions to follow, beginning to walk, "Not far now."

"Wh-whar _is_ it, Tom?" Amy Benton whimpered as she hurried to keep up.

"It's a surprise." He smirked, his eyes glinting red.


	2. A ‘Special’ Child

Chapter Two: A 'Special' Child

Tom Riddle always _was_ a queer child; quiet, secretive, cunning, serious and solitary. Mrs. Cole sat again behind her desk and poured another glass of Gin, watching the clear fluid thoughtfully. In eleven years, strange Tom had never had friends or gone seeking any. He hadn't had any visitors, either, until that odd Mr. Dumberton today.

Mrs. Cole gulped down her Gin and slightly smiled inwardly. Tom was leaving. She never hated him, but his absence meant no strangled rabbits or traumatized children. No missing belongings to be found in Tom's room.

Perhaps Tom was indeed 'special', and good riddance!


	3. The Sorting

Chapter Three: The Sorting

Tom stood, wearing new robes with his fellow eleven-year-olds. Most were fidgeting nervously; Tom was still, attentive, awaiting his stranger father's name. Quincy, Anna sat on the stool at the head of the hall, the dirty old hat falling over her eyes.

"GRYFFINDOR!" was finally shouted. Anna ran to her cheering house-mated, sitting beside Potter, Aaron.

Riddle, Tom was called to the front. He went without the dread of his peers. The hat was quiet and then, "_My, been a while since I've seen a mind like yours…cunning, tricky…you'll be great…only place for you'd be_…" Tom held his breath, "SLYTHERIN!"


	4. Defense Against the Dark Arts

Chapter Four: Defense Against the Dark Arts

"If ever you wish to achieve the ability of defending yourself, you'll need more than Shield Charms and how to cast a Patronus." Professor Merrythought paced before a class of Fourth-Year Slytherins and Ravenclaws, "What, in addition, do you require? Yes, Tom."

"Sir, oughtn't you know what you're up against?" Tom performed well-rehearsed innocence.

"Precisely. You must _know about_ the Dark Arts to properly _fight_ them. Do you follow?" Tom's hand rose, "Yes, Tom?"

"Professor, we ought to be wary, though, right?" His voice was thick with earnesty.

"Crucial, _be wary,_" He smiled at his pupil, "20 points to Slytherin."


	5. Horcruxes

Chapter Five: Horcruxes

A victorious fifteen-year-old Tom left the dungeons light-hearted. After months of planning and sucking up to the old Slug, he'd won. Of course he had won, when last had he lost? Not in years. He smirked inwardly; the others knew he never failed, so they tried befriending him. They knew if they were close to him, they would triumph, too.

Finally, the Slug gave in. Was it the crystallized pineapple? His high marks in Potions? His involvement with the 'Slug Club', despite his aversion to friendship? He didn't know or care. He had what he wanted:

The knowledge of Horcruxes.


	6. First to Go

Chapter Six: First to Go

Tom Riddle, Senior, heard the door shut from the parlor. Uneasiness curdled within him. He crept to the door where he saw a black-cloaked figure standing erect, a leather volume in hand.

"Who are you?" the stranger turned, revealing what could've been the father's face.

The darkly-garbed figure smiled menacingly, replying serenely, "I'm your son, come to bid you farewell." The hand not gripping a diary withdrew a long strip of wood from the dark folds, directed calmly at the elder's chest calmly, and hissed, "_Avada kedavra!_"

The last Tom saw was his son, triumphantly smiling and then death came.


	7. Wit Beyond Measure

Chapter Seven: Wit Beyond Measure

The forest was quiet and still. There was no wind, no animals, no life save for Tom and his desire to live forever. The forest was wide, dense and tall, but Tom was confident he would find what he was seeking. By all means, Tom considered himself invincible already, but with only his grandfather's ring and the old diary, he was still beatable.

The Diadem, an already powerful magical object, would surely make an exceptionally powerful Horcrux.

He stopped abruptly. What was that dull silver glow straight ahead, coming from within that hollow tree…the air left his lungs;

Ravenclaw's Diadem!


	8. Of Age

Chapter Eight: Of Age

Seventeen years of life stored in his memory, he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the last time. At last he was an adult, free from the rules in the loathed orphanage and the beloved school. Yet, it didn't hurt to leave Hogwarts. He willfully left behind the grand castle, green rolling grounds, glimmering lake and shadowy forest.

As the train chugged out of Hogsmeade Station, he withdrew the wand of Yew and Phoenix feather that an orphan had purchased. He had been called Tom Riddle but never again. Now that boy was grown and now he was called Lord Voldemort.


	9. Parseltongue

Chapter Nine: Parseltongue

Her eyes were like two glowing golden saucers. She wasn't a mere animal; smarter than the fools at the Ministry and in the _Daily Prophet_. She was closer to human than the wizard sitting before her. He cocked his head and hissed, "_Hello, beautiful._"

"_Hello._" The snake hissed, gazed in scrutiny.

His thin mouth quirked into a sinister smile-like curve, "_What're you called, lovely?_"

"_I am Nagini and in no need of your flattery._"

His brow creased, "_Will you join me, as a counterpart, adviser and friend?_" he was a stranger to the word.

She slithered towards him, hissing, "_Yesssssssss…_"


	10. Borgin & Burkes

Chapter Ten: Borgin & Burkes

It was an October morning. No customers. Mr. Borgin stood behind the dark-gleaming counter. He watched Tom meticulously rearranging price tags on a shelf.

The lad was obedient, hard-working and able to charm the fairer sex without any wand. Yet, he seemed dangerous, scheming, biding time. Far too skilled for a job in a small shop for low income. He was like still water with something dark and deadly lurking beneath the surface.

Tom had arrived only moments before, his hollow cheeks flushed from the chill. The bell above the door jangled. A woman entered.

A woman.

"Tom, come here."


	11. Branded

Chapter Eleven: Branded

None of them flinched when the red metal hissed against their skin, marking their loyalty to their Master. It was metal bewitched so the mark could never be removed. A promise to the Dark Lord was a lifelong promise. Words could be forgotten or denied, but the Dark Mark couldn't fade.

There were shrieks of joy, tears of gratitude at being christened Death Eaters. None of them, left arms extended, flinched. They knew not of the Diadem, Locket, Ring, Diary or Nagini's true importance. They knew not of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

They knew only Lord Voldemort and their new-gleaming promises.


	12. The Hog's Head

Chapter Twelve: The Hog's Head

The snow drifted from a steely sky, settling upon the picturesque village of Hogsmeade. Four men, none much more than children, really, sat at the dusty corner table in the Hog's Head Pub. The windows were frosty. Inside it was musky, warm, dry.

"Dumbledore won't give him the job." Said Rosier, gulping firewhiskey.

"You doubt the Dark Lord?" challenged Dolohov.

"Doubt him? Never!" replied Rosier, "I say he underestimates Dumbledore. Dumbledore's still a fool to appose Him."

Mulciber grunted, "Speak nothing you'd not say in the presence of the Dark Lord."

Nott nodded. They lifted their drinks, "To Lord Voldemort."


	13. Prophecy

Chapter Thirteen: Prophecy

A loud _crack_ sounded. All eyes turned to the heavily panting and frenzied man who had Apparated, speaking rapidly already, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies."

Silence hung momentarily in the air; crimson eyes watching Severus. There were ten Death Eaters in the room, all stunned. True to her aggressive nature, Bellatrix growled, "The blasted Longbottoms!"

Nagini unfurled at his feet and Voldemort shook his head slowly, "No…_the Potters…_"

No one saw Severus' sudden anguish and panic at his Master's words.


	14. Nice Costume, Mister

Chapter Fourteen: Nice Costume, Mister

The orange costume was uncomfortable. The green neckline that was supposed to be the stem made his neck itch. The sound of candy bouncing about in the bag he carried was worth the terrible pumpkin suit. The boy's younger brother trotted merrily beside him, thrilled by the still-new experience of Halloween. It had taken loads of persuasion for mum to allow the two brothers to go alone.

Suddenly, the smaller boy was racing away towards a particularly dodgy stranger. He spouted, "Nice costume, Mister!" but before his elder brother called him, he scurried back, terrified and refusing to say why.


	15. Broken Was He

Chapter Fifteen: Broken Was He

The woods were as wide, dense and tall as they had been when he had first come here. He wasn't the boy who had walked here. He had no legs to walk. He was in a state of pain like nothing he had known, fear worse than even what he had caused. Wind howled; a maddened beast in the sturdy trees.

Awaiting a familiar to wander amongst the thick trunks, searching for the vanished Master. They didn't come for him, despite the lifelong promise burnt onto their skin. Alone, broken, caught in the haze between misery, seething fury and despair.


	16. Born Again

Chapter Sixteen: Born Again

What a feeling! More wonderful than anything he could recall! Life, true life…and in a body all his own! A new, fresh, capable body not to be idly cast aside. He waited momentarily, savoring the wonder of having a body again. Then he rose, slowly, slowly, reveling in every precious second of air in new lungs and blood coursing through brand new veins!

"Robe me." He spoke and was obeyed. He examined hi sown body and felt the closest emotion to love that he'd ever known. It was towards his own pale limbs, torso and head. Again, Voldemort had risen.


	17. Plan Failed

Chapter Seventeen: Plan Failed

Again, Harry Potter had evaded him, he had escaped by the skin of his teeth. How was it the Boy Who Lived—a mere child—could repeatedly win out against the most powerful wizard that had ever lived? And yet…the boy, however inexperienced or unskilled he may be, was stronger than his foe had imagined.

He had a strong mind, a strong will. No…Voldemort would not force his way into the head of the Boy Who Lived again. Trying had hurt him, bringing back cold memories of that Albanian forest.

Why was it so easy for Harry Potter to win?!


	18. A Tower Struck By Lightning

Chapter Eighteen: A Tower Struck By Lightning

It might as well be called a victory already. He might as well be given now the shimmering crown and sceptor he deserved. Albus Dumbledore was dead and soon he would be in charge. Dumbledore, who had made his own mistakes. Dumbledore, who had told an orphan boy he had magic long ago. Dumbledore, who had refused to employ Lord Voldemort and who had dueled him in the Ministry of Magic a year prior. With Albus Dumbledore gone, the Order would falter, Potter and his friends would stumble and the Light would dwindle.

With Dumbledore gone, the Dark could triumph.


	19. Triumph

Chapter Nineteen: Triumph

Harry Potter was dead.

There he was, face down in the dead leaves. A crumpled, pathetic heap, in the dirt where he belonged, with all his Mudbloods and Blood Traitors. Her master was happy…he was elated at his success! His joy was her joy.

Like all the Death Eaters, Bellatrix watched her master to see what he would do. Harry Potter lay dead; defeated, broken, tangled in his robes. Bellatrix watched her sister go to him, on her master's orders, slip a hand beneath his robes, crouching low.

Narcissa picked up her silvery blond head, "He is dead." She confirmed.


	20. Defeat

Chapter Twenty: Defeat

The moment Harry Potter appeared the war was lost.

Lord Voldemort realized with a jolt that the helpless infant that had famously beaten him was an adult. Surely, he was told frequently of his likeness to James Potter, but his eyes were Lily's; those that had wept, begged, pleaded on that fateful Halloween night.

The man that little Harry Potter had become didn't look frightened or angry. He looked…_brave._ He was truly a Gryffindor, was he not? He was as much a man as Voldemort, who acknowledged him; marked him as an equal, not knowing this piece of the prophecy.


End file.
